The Goddess of Family and the Boy-With-No-Family
by Hammer n' Nail
Summary: Little did anyone know that James was one of Kronos' favorite drinking buddies. Of course, no one expected them to actually enter their children into a marriage contract. Now young Harry is paying the price, but is it really going to be that bad for him? Written for the Celestial Contract challenge.
1. Meeting the Bride and Groom

Harry looked gobsmacked by the revelation. Of course, that would be a perfectly natural reaction to learning that one was in a marriage contract with a goddess. A _goddess_ , that James Potter had somehow, in his infinite wisdom, decided to enter into a marriage contract with his only child.

How James got Kronos of all people – yes the TITAN Kronos, to enter a marriage contract the goblins knew not. Griphook, who was delivering the news to the young Potter, assumed that it was a lot of alcohol and strippers. No, Griphook didn't know Kronos at all, other than the legends, and James he knew very little about since they had a strict business relationship, but that was generally how marriage contracts were formed.

The other reason was to make sure whatever house they belonged to didn't go bankrupt, which clearly wasn't the case considering how vast the Potter fortune was, and how the other person in the contract had no need for mortal currency. Or fame, now that the short goblin thought of it.

Still, it was rather funny seeing the wizard's face gape like a fish's. It looked like his brain was melting, and – Griphook admitted – that was a fair reaction. Especially since there was no clause that caused any backlash whatsoever should the two murder one another, which meant that the only living Potter would likely be killed. Assuming he got any goddess that didn't like him, which considering his personality (brave, selfless, neither smart nor stupid) made it so very few goddesses would even bat an eyelash before striking him down.

Griphook – a ruthless goblin – actually pitied the boy. There was simply no way he was going to live through this. Not likely in the least. Griphook actually considered moving to a different room, or making the boy stand on newspapers to lessen the blood stains, before realizing that there probably wasn't going to be anything left after whatever goddess was out there vaporized him.

Now Kronos only had three daughters, Hera – whom would simply vaporize the boy – Demeter – who would likely turn the boy into a plant – and Hestia – who Griphook knew was the boy's only probable chance at survival. Now Griphook wasn't worried for Harry's safety, but if he died the goddess would get the gold in the Potter's vaults, and both Hera and Demeter were cruel enough to take it.

Of course telling the boy that if the marriage contract wasn't completed by the time he was fifteen he would implode and go to Tartarus probably didn't help him worry any less.

Then, with a flash of light, Griphook sprinted out of the room. What, did you think he was going to stick around for the probable bloodbath? No, he would also run the risk of dying should he stay. So he decided to give the – ahem – new fiances time to work out their differences.

 **XXX**

Harry shielded his eyes from the bright flash as he heard his bank manager dash out of the room. Coward. Then again, he was basically facing his death by woman. Harry idly remembered Ron once calling Hermione 'brilliant, but scary' and felt that perhaps that would persuade the goddess to not gut him alive.

Harry just thanked whatever cosmic being that was listening that Artemis wasn't a possible fiance. That would simply be frightening.

Lowering his arm, Harry saw quite possibly the cutest girl he had ever laid eyes on. Now this wasn't an overly attractive girl, or even just a pretty girl, it was a girl that looked like she was eight. Chestnut brown hair cut short in a bowlcut, lightly tanned skin, rich dark brown eyes...

And Harry felt incredibly guilty he had forced a little girl to marry him, completely forgetting she had enough power to wipe him from the face of existence.

"Um, hello. I'm Harry Potter," Harry greeted the girl holding out his hand for a handshake. He was quite guilty and awkward, not knowing what to do. So he did what Harry did best, sacrifice himself for everyone else.

"I know you may not want to marry me, so you can leave if you want, you'll be fine!" He told her with a fake smile on his face and hope she bought it. He really didn't want to see such an innocent face hurt by being forced to marry someone she didn't like.

Of course, she was Hestia, goddess of the Hearth, Family, and Homemade Meals. She almost cried when she felt her fiance's presence. It was so...cold. No family to speak of, friends yes, but no family to hold him. His godfather too far and fleeting, his parents dead, no siblings. Oh god, his aunt and uncle! No warmth of the hearth from the boy, no homemade meals aside from the ones he cooked himself and the few he got at the Weasley's.

Then, after almost hugging him and telling him it would be alright, that she would give him a family – she refused to acknowledge the Dursleys as family – he told her that if she didn't want to accept the contact everything would be fine. She knew it would be fine for her, but he would die and be subject to Tartarus! He was going to let her go knowing that he would be in agony for the rest of existence? He was going to sacrifice himself so she wouldn't have to be forced to marry someone she might not like?  
She lunged at the boy who clenched his eyes in preparation of dying. Only to find himself being wrapped in a tight hug, not uncomfortable like a Hermione Hug, but a warm, tight hug as she sobbed into his robes. Harry simply stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do due to him never receiving any proper hug – or any show of affection – in his short life. Which was quite sad.

"How," Hestia hiccuped through his robes as she nuzzled her face into his chest, "how can you go on? How?" She demanded as she sobbed on her contracted fiance. Harry stood shell shocked as he realized what goddess he was contracted to, and why she had such a bad reaction. She was Hestia goddess of _family_ something that Harry had never had, and had only seen at the Weasley's.

"I've never really known what it would be like" Harry admitted as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around Hestia as she stiffened at his answer. She pulled back, her arms still around Harry's midsection, but her arms having enough reach to look up into his eyes, her small barely four foot stature looking at him. Her eyes were rimmed with red, slightly puffy despite the few minutes she had been crying, red blotches where tears had flown down her cheeks. She looked so sad Harry went to apologize.

"I'm sorr-" Harry began before being cut off by the small girl still in his arm, her misty eyes hardening into a glare as he started to apologize for making her cry.

"Don't you, don't you dare apologize Harry Potter." She told him, he cringed at the use of his full name. "Don...don't you dare," she looked like she was about to burst into tears again, and Harry felt absolutely awful at causing her to be like this, "you need a family, I'm going to give you one whether you like it or not." Hestia told him, before crashing back into his taller frame and squeezing him. He squeezed her back lightly, not knowing how hard to squeeze.

Hestia apparently knew the reason because she shuttered as he did.

Harry wasn't exactly sure how long the two were like that. It could have been minutes, hours, maybe even days. He didn't feel like moving, he felt content to just stay and reassure the goddess of family that he was completely fine, and that if she wanted to go she could. When he told her that, she slapped him hard before crying into his chest again, hugging him even tighter without making him uncomfortable.

Soon enough he felt the little goddess go limp in his arms, making Harry pick her up bridal style and place her in a chair gently. He then walked out of the office and stage whispered Griphook's name. The goblin came running back quick enough now that he saw his customer was alive and well.

After discussing what had happened – and Griphook being thoroughly disgusted by what his aunt and uncle subjected him to – Griphook told him to use the floo to take him to Hestia's Temple. It had worked because he had Hestia with him (quite literally) and had her permission. At least Griphook told him he probably did.

So, after heaving the lithe goddess to her temple, finding her bed, laying her in said bed, Harry went to look around.

While Hestia was a modest goddess, words that very few other beings of power could attest to, her temple was beautiful and Harry loved it. In contrast to the stark white marble and gleaming gold of Olympus, Hestia's temple was made mostly of dark wood and small amounts of dark brown metal. It was like a cottage, a small kitchen, a single bedroom that was large, an altar that was clearly never used (though Harry made a mental note to pray to her form here-forth), and a modest living room.

The dark brown wooden walls and the warm carpet made Harry smile as he sat down on the couch. A small coffee table in front of him, a television hung on the wall above a hearth. Harry felt the warm rays coming off the hearth, welcoming him, making him feel at home. Harry smiled genuinely as he removed his shoes and placed them under the coffee table, before lying across the couch. While Harry could have slept in Hestia's bed, he felt it would be rude to do so, and so resigned himself to stretching across the couch.

And for the first time in a long time, Harry had a nice, peaceful sleep without Dursleys or Housemates, or Voldemort waking him up.

 **XXX**

Hestia stirred in her bed, before snuggling back into the covers. She didn't really feel like getting up, the covers were-

She shot up abruptly as she realized she had fallen asleep in the arms of Harry Potter, and that she was now in her bed in her room in her temple. She was actually curious where her young fiance was, because there was simply no way she was going to let him die. Not after he attempted to make sure she was happy, knowing he would go to Tartarus for it.

Slowly rising from the bed, she quietly made her way to the living room where she found his shoes discarded under the table. She then started to smell cooking coming from the kitchen and smiled at the thought of a nice breakfast. She strolled into the kitchen to see the youngest Potter in front of the gas stove scrambling eggs and cooking bacon, making more than enough for simply two people. She greeted Harry with a hug, making him look down at her beaming face confused.

Then, she kissed the only living Potter on the lips, in a chaste short kiss. Harry didn't respond to it, so it couldn't be said that he kissed her, though that may have been because he had never kissed anyone before. So, Hestia sauntered back to the kitchen table, and patiently waited for breakfast to finish being cooked by Harry Potter.

When he finished, he gave her a plate, made himself a much smaller plate to her displeasure, and they ate in comfortable silence. Hestia did pester Harry into eating more, and he obliged after being glared at with his half-hearted protests.

"So...want to meet my family?"

For the first time ever Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, fainted in dread at meeting his fiance's three older brothers and two older sisters, who no doubt loved her.

Hestia found it amusing.

 **XXX  
**

This was written for the Celestial Contract challenge by Dis Lexic on the DZ2 Challenge Forums.

 ** **RULES!****

Fourth year or above.

Harry must be contracted to marry an immortal. This can be a Spirit or a goddess. How the contract came about is up to you.

Harrys Bride to be must be unaware that the contract exists. How she reacts to finding out is up to you.

Harry must move in with her to her palace/realm.

Wedding must take place before the end of the year.

 ** **SUGGESTIONS!****

Immortal Harry.

Crossovers.

Harrys bride being protective of Harry and making life difficult for those who hurt him.

The Dursleys getting there just deserts.

Pregnancy/kids

 ** **FORBIDDEN!****

Weak Harry.

The contract being broken.

Anyways, yes, I felt like Hestia and Harry would make the perfect pair. Don't worry, the DS/HP Crossover is still on, I just saw this and I love Hestia so...yeah.

Anyways, Hestia is the goddess of family, and Harry only knows one family; the Weasleys. He doesn't have one, the closest he has is his Godfather who is on the run from the aurors and is unable to be by his side all the time. Seeing how bad his life is, Hestia breaks down in tears when he offers to die for someone he doesn't know, just because they may not want to be married to him.

His backstory plus his selflessness makes Hestia simply want to give Harry a family. Also yes, James and Kronos are drinking buddies apparently. No one knows how the contract was signed, so it should be noted that James somehow knew Kronos existed.

Also, if you've ever read fanfiction in the Harry Potter section, you know how most Fourth Year stories go...


	2. Meeting the In-Laws

If you asked Harry why he was cowering behind his bride-to-be, he would calmly explain that he was not cowering, he was using his bride as a godly meat shield. Hestia didn't mind, really, because she was being carried bridal style – Harry didn't want to make his protector uncomfortable – so she was completely fine with it.

She may have been developing a crush on the young man, one she would readily accept and act on. Now if only she could get the young boy to feel love – as he would likely not know what it felt like – and the marry him, giving him a family. Let it never be said that Hestia wasn't willing to sacrifice her relationship status to make sure everyone had family, a Hearth, and homemade meals.

But she could see where her young groom was coming from; her family could be quite frightening. Especially considering even if she was largely ignored by the council, she was still loved as the eldest sister who nobody wanted to get mad, not even Zeus. Now there was a _mortal_ who she was betrothed to? He would be lucky to make it ten feet into the room alive.

Not that it mattered at the moment, as Hestia snuggled into his chest. Being physically eight did have it's advantages – namely being adorable and able to pull off the cute kitten look. It made everyone feel bad when she berated them far more than if she was an older age, and it was far more comfortable being eight than eighteen.

Harry very reluctantly lightly shook Hestia in his arms to wake her from her nap. It seemed rude, but he really didn't want to meet her family and have them think he drugged her. Which, Hestia admitted when he explained, was probably a very good idea, because knowing them personally they would do that.

So Harry, walking behind Hestia – not cowering at all, okay maybe a little – walked into the council room, where there were ten large thrones with ten equally large humanoids sitting in them that Harry assumed were the gods. As the two too be married walked further into the room, all the gods turned their eyes, head, and slash or bodies to face us more directly. Harry gulped as Hestia squeezed his hand in a comforting motion.

"Ah, sister, why is it you have brought this mortal to Olympus?" the man in the middle to the left asked. He wore a gray business suit, had a large white beard that was far more controlled than Dumbledore's, a head of full white hair, and electric blue eyes. He was Zeus, god of the sky, thunder, and gods.

"This, dear family, is my husband to be!" Hestia exclaimed cheerfully. If Harry was any less scared of dying – not that he feared it much, mind you, he was scared of _how_ the gods would kill him – he would have burst out laughing at the god's faces. Zeus looked constipated and the woman to his right – who Harry assumed to be Hera – dropped her jaw. Harry didn't have to wait long to see who Artemis was, considering she was knocking an arrow right this moment.

Seeing this, Harry ducked to the side of Hestia and with the command of "Help!" made Hestia burn Artemis' arrow from her hand. Hestia considered herself a minor pacifist, but if her family was going to murder her new husband she would readily break that rule.

"Stop this, family!" The littlest goddess demanded as Zeus was picking up a lightning bolt, Artemis was knocking another arrow, Poseidon was attempting to throw his trident like a lance, and Ares was about to jump from his seat to stab the young human. It honestly would have been humorous, had they not been trying to kill such a selfless person.

"Now we're going to have a nice, civil conversation" Hestia told the pantheon, the room getting colder and the hearth getting smaller with every word spoken. Harry a mental note to never make his fiance too angry, because she was far scarier than Hermione when she was angry. Harry shuddered should the two ever be angry at him at the same time. The gods all shivered in hopes they didn't piss off their eldest sister too badly.

"Now, introduce yourself, Harry" the goddess of family asked in a sweet tone that did make Harry feel slightly better, if only because at least one god didn't want to gut him alive.

"Ah, I'm Harry Potter. Mine and Hestia's fathers entered us in a marriage contact" Harry said in a high voice while smiling uncomfortably and twitching occasionally. From the wide-eyed looks on the god's faces they clearly weren't expecting it either. Unsurprisingly, considering Kronos was trapped in Tartarus as far as they knew in literal bits and pieces. Seeing Zeus reaching for his master bolt again, Harry quickly elaborated.

"Um, I gave her the choice if she didn't want to accept it she didn't have to – she um hugged me – so, okay bye!" With that Harry sprinted out of the room as he saw multiple gods still picking up their weapons, and was going to be impaled if Hestia had not stopped the projectiles. Aphrodite was quiet throughout seeing him.

Hestia turned towards her family and glared the way only Hestia can to make people feel guilty enough to apologize even if you had an ego larger than the sun itself. She inhaled deeply through her nose before exhaling through her mouth and closing her eyes. When she opened them she was met with ashamed looks.

"You don't understand," she told them, garnering their attention, "if I don't accept it, he goes to Tartarus, and he offered to do it just because I might not like him!" The last part came off as a yell, the Hearth Goddess losing her calm exterior, causing many of the pantheon to widen their eyes. Hestia never did that. "His... _family_ ," Hestia spat the word out so vilely most of the gods couldn't believe it, "have denied him any sort of things a family should, the only homecooked meals he's eaten are ones he made himself and the occasional one at his friend's home, and he's so cold and untouched by the fire he might as well be an ice god!"

"He doesn't understand love..." Aphrodite mumbled quietly, so quiet very few picked it up, Hestia being one of them.

"What?"

"He...he doesn't understand the _concept_ of love. He barely understands the concept of liking something, he has never loved anything at all or has been loved." Aphrodite was known for being spiteful and mean, but right now she looked like her entire world was rocked, utterly shaken to the core. It made sense, Hestia mused to herself, the goddess of love couldn't comprehend someone with no love in them. It was practically unheard of, for not even a small smidgen of love, to not understand any kind of love, that existence would be horrible.

It was then Aphrodite decided that the boy needed Hestia, and more importantly he needed a family. If she had to be that family, she would be, because Harry needed it, he needed it more than Zeus needed to feel important, or than she needed to love.

So with a quick smack of her hand on her throne, she told the pantheon this; "Hestia, marry him. He needs you badly, and he doesn't even know it."

"This is all well and good," a new voice cut in, it was deep yet it wasn't overly rough like a smoker's voice, "but would someone mind explaining to me _why_ my champion is engaged to Hestia?"

The pantheon turned to find a dark skinned Thanatos, beige tunic and leather belt with leather sandles standing near the door. His black dreadlocks covered a single raised black eyebrow as he shot a questioning look at the gods with his golden eyes.

"How is the boy," Hestia shot a dark look at Zeus for that title, "your champion?" Zeus asked in a no-nonsense tone, clearly wondering how a mortal could be the champion of Death, especially considering that Thanatos had yet to produce any demi-gods, not even a firstborn.

"He cheated death, _four times_ already." Thanatos explained looking rather cross at the fact that he had been denied the same soul four times, and the soul itself was not even fifteen yet.

Of course the fact that her fiance had been close enough to death four times that Thanatos was almost able to claim his soul made her whimper slightly and she made a mental note to ask him about them later.

"I'm still cross with how he survive getting bit by the damned basilisk" Thanatos muttered so quietly only Hestia who wasn't sitting on a throne heard.

"Indeed, he is quite the champion." A new voice added, standing next to Thanatos, causing all but him to jump in shock.

Next to the scowling Thanatos was a tall woman, blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin, whites robes covering all but her face and hands. Her hair was done up in a bun, and her aristocratic face had the pale pink lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. She was the Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft, Crossroads, and the Mist. Hecate, The Dark Lady, in all her glory.

"Wait," Apollo called from his throne looking positively giddy, "he's your champion as well?"

"Quite."

It was then that Hestia realized, her husband-to-be had been on quite the number of adventure already.

Harry wandered Mount Olympus while taking in the sights. Well, he actually was sneaking around, because he was unsure if any of the gods were chasing him. He doubted he would be able to hide if they actually were, but it was better safe than sorry, as he had learned constantly, Quirrel trying to kill him first year, then a basilisk second year, then a werewolf _and_ dementors third year...he really didn't like to take chances.

He took a seat on a bench in the garden he was currently exploring, sitting as he absorbed the scent and sight of the plants that surrounded him. While he never had any affinity towards nature, Harry did know that quite a lot of work must have been put into making the garden, and as such he didn't squander the person's hard work by ignoring it.

"Enjoying the view?" A fellow British voice called from behind him, causing Harry to whip around to face the man. He stood taller than Harry, but not by much, an orange head of hair that reminded him of the Weasley's but curlier, an orange goatee and casual slacks and a shirt.

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief that a god hadn't found him, considering they would likely be out for blood, and answered the man politely. "Yes, it's quite beautiful. May I ask who you are? I'm Harry Potter" Harry introduced himself to the unknown man. Who sat down next to him and smiled mischievously.

"Oh, I know who you are Mr. Potter, you are marrying my sister after all" The man, whom Harry realized had to be Hades because both Zeus and Poseidon had been different looking than this man, said lightly, not threatening in any way. Even besides this, Harry knew that Hades was going to kill him, considering he knew Hestia was forced into the contract.

"Could you at least make it quick? I've been to close to dying to want to be in pain again" Harry asked the deity of the dead as he bowed his head in defeat, not showing much respect which Hades respected. Though Hades was very curious as to why he was so sure that he was going to kill the boy, before simply marking it down as him being an overprotective brother. Which he was, mind you, but he could tell that the boy needed a chance.

"What do you mean, been close to dying?"

"Ah, well Voldemort shot the killing curse at me when I was one, I didn't die he did, then he possessed a teacher in my first year at Hogwarts – A magical school – and I burned him alive, after he nearly killed me again." Hades made the gesture for him to continue, so Harry did.

"In second year, I fought a basilisk," Hades' jaw dropped and his eye brows shot to the top of his head but Harry continued anyways, "I got bit after stabbing it through the top of the mouth with a sword," Harry pulled his sleeve up to show the circular scar where he got bit, idly tracing it as he finished his stories, "a phoenix cried on it so I'm not dead, but the venom hurt like bloody hell, no offense, and then I killed a living diary that was commanding the basilisk."

Hades put his hand up when Harry was about to go onto his third year, and Harry cringed thinking he was about to die.

"You can marry my sister, so long as you promise to not put her in the same situations you were in" Hades told the Boy-Who-Lived before shadow traveling to the room where the gods were gathered, leaving a very confused and glad Harry Potter, wondering why he was not yet dead.

"Huh," he said, "I didn't almost die...this may be a new record."

 **XXX**

 _HOLY SHIT_! Apparently people really fucking like Hestia/Harry because in 14 hours this story has gotten 13 reviews, 30 favorites, 45 followers, and is in two communities. That's insane. That's almost as much as all my other stories combined in terms of followers.

Wow. I mean, I didn't think that this was even that good, I just like Hestia enough to feel obligated to continue this because people like it. I mean there are so many plot holes in the story it's not even funny, but apparently people _really_ like the idea of Kronos and James being best friends and _getting wasted in Tartarus._ Yes, a review actually said that.

So, I hate bashing Aphrodite even if she's kind of a bitch in canon, because I like her. She's shallow enough that she can't understand people not understanding love. Zeus is a dick, obviously, Poseidon is overprotective, and Hades is a cool dude. Harry is champion to Hecate _and_ Thanatos and I find that hilarious because he doesn't even know, and he's not a demigod either.

No, Harry is not a demigod, nor will he be. Keep in mind this is WAAAY before Lightning Thief even starts because this is _1994_ and Lightning Thief starts in, 2010, right? Yeah, there's a 16 year difference there.

Next chapter will likely be the start of Fourth Year, and probably the start of _very very heavy_ bashing on Dumbledore's part. I'm not sure whether I want to bash Ron and Hermione in this fic for abandoning Harry at the start of the TWT yet, so input would be nice. I'm not bashing Snape, by the way. I'm just not, I like him, he may not be an important part of the story, but I won't bash my third favorite character in the Harry Potter series (Luna being the first, then Grindelwald, then Snape, followed by Harry, and finally Ollivander)


	3. Meeting the Dursleys and Fathers

Harry, Hestia decided, needed someone to cook him homemade meals daily for dinner. Which was no problem, considering he could simply travel by hearth to her home at night. She would make him delicious food and he loved it, and she loved doting on the boy, his starved physique making her want to shove food down his maw.

Harry, however, found that he was very guilty for not making his bride any food, and would make her breakfast, as the eldest in mind and youngest in body goddess liked to sleep late. Which Harry couldn't fault her for, but felt the Hufflepuffs may have a stroke if the goddess that seemed like she would be a perfect fit for their house was lazy. Which – Harry admitted to himself and only himself – she was. She very much liked to have things done for her and doing non-taxing activities like watching the telly and tending hearths, both of which required very little activity.

Not that he minded, because the girl looked absolutely adorable when she slept, as most eight year olds do. In body which Harry was somewhat uncomfortable with considering he was marrying her, but decided he wouldn't bring it up, because he didn't want her to change for him. Which he thought was completely fair because she was forced into this, that he should change to be whoever she wanted him to be.

When he had explained this to Apollo in mid September, Harry being at Hogwarts for little more than two weeks and keeping his new family a secret from his friends and Headmaster at their request, the Sun God promptly told Harry exactly what was wrong with that.

"Dude, Harry, you _both_ were forced into the contract, in fact it's _you_ who have the short end of the stick here, if you don't marry you go to Tartarus!" Apollo looked at Harry like he was a child – which he was – and continued on his rant "Good Hades man, you feel guilty over everything, don't you?" When Harry responded with a confused nod, Apollo laid his head in his hands and groaned.

"Well yes, of course I do, she shouldn't have to change at all, she didn't want to be engaged to me, right?" Harry told the god with such conviction that Apollo was actually considering petitioning the boy to be the God of Self-Sacrifice, Selflessness, and Helpfulness, if only because he felt guilty over things he couldn't control and would remedy the situation at whatever cost he had to, even sacrificing himself!

Of course, over their time together Hestia had eventually milked out of Harry where the Dursley family lived exactly, and how bad they were to him. Of course, Hestia bawled into his body when she learned of him sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs, and cried even harder when Harry had told her that it was nothing to cry over. Harry was very confused as to why she cried even harder, and patted her shoulder awkwardly and told her 'it would all be okay' as he had often heard on the telly that it was what you said when someone was crying.

Hestia continued to cry until she had expunged so many tears that she had completely soaked Harry's clothing from his shirt down to his shoes, before eventually falling asleep in his arms. Harry was quite confused as to _why_ she had cried so much. Sure his childhood wasn't the best, but there were bound to be people with worse childhoods than he, right? When he visited Aphrodite after laying Hestia in her bed and tucking her in, he explained to her his reasoning, causing Aphrodite to start crying into his shirt.

After much the same process with Hestia, and telling Aphrodite about his abuse – and telling her that it really wasn't all that bad compared to how bad it could have been – and getting his shirt even more wet if that was possible at that point, Harry decided that it would be in his best interests to ask a god that wasn't related to love or family, or any of those things if they understood where he was coming from.

So he decided to go to Poseidon, try and bond with his soon-to-be brother in a law a bit more. He wasn't quite brave enough to go see Zeus yet in fear he may kill him, and he knew Hades was likely busy, Harry decided to talk with the god of seas.

So after bonding with the God of Horses over Thestrals and how they were amazing – of which both males agreed readily – and how cool other horses were and bonding over that, Harry explained his dilemma to Poseidon hoping to gain insight why the two goddess' cried. Only to have Poseidon explode in a shower of tears and hug him. This left Harry very confused, as the god wasn't a god of family or love, or even anything similar to those.

He shouldn't have overreacted like that, he didn't even tell him much more than the other two, only that he didn't have any friends growing up because his cousin bullied anyone who tried to be friendly to him. It didn't really matter to Harry, because he had two good friends now, and that was enough for him. Harry even told Poseidon that it really didn't matter because Dudley's action made him a pariah, so it wouldn't be likely that anyone would want to be his friend.

This had exactly the affect it had on the two deities before him – and the God of the Sea cried far harder into Harry, despite towering over the boy even in his human form. Eventually Poseidon passed out from lack of water as he sobbed far harder than the other two – likely because he was a water god – and Harry laid him in his bed and tucked him in as well.

Harry wondered if he could ask Thanatos, as the god seemed to have extreme control over his emotions. He thought that Thanatos may be busy, and really didn't want to interrupt the god in case he was busy or sleeping...Harry decided that he would simply call the god once, and if he didn't answer than Harry would go visit some other god or goddess.

So Harry called the Greek God of Death, and in a literal flash, he was there. Harry promptly thanked him for coming and asked him if he was busy or not. Thanatos replied negative, and Harry sighed in relief, as he didn't want to visit Zeus so soon.

Harry then explained the situation to Thanatos, whom grunted before answering, his face ever stony.

"Harry, you quite literally talked to the wrong god for every single aspect of your childhood," the deity raised his hand to stop Harry from talking, "Hestia finds neglect repulsive because families should be close – also while not even near the extent you were neglected – the Greek Pantheon isn't the best at remembering her.

Then you went the Aphrodite who finds abuse to be the worst thing. Mind you, she's the Goddess of _Love_ , what breaks up relationships more often than not? Abuse – be it emotional or physical, or in your case both – generally breaks love, shatters the heart, or makes people like you, who simply can't understand love."

"But I understand love, it's, er, when two people like each other! A lot!" Harry had told the Death God, who only shot him a piercing gaze with his golden eyes before sighing and then finishing why Poseidon had cried.

"Poseidon had the fatal flaw – a fatal flaw is something all gods have to keep them from being perfect, Zeus has arrogance, Artemis is sexist, ect. – of self-loyalty. He puts his happiness and his priorities above others, and you, whom has had an awful life, has no self-loyalty at all. You put everyone else above yourself even though your _family_ , did that for you and made your early life hell."

Thanatos' explanation made Harry understand that he had to be more careful about talking with some gods as to not make them uncomfortable. When Harry asked Thanatos if he was right, Thanatos seriously wondered if his champion was some minor god of selflessness.

Thanatos did nod, however, and as Harry turned around, a single tear slipped from Thanatos' eye.

He made a mental note to grab the other three that Harry talked with that night and bring them along to when he visited the Dursley household. They would certainly like to see them dragged off the fields of punishment.

So, after the only living Potter had fallen asleep, the God of Death went and woke those who had heard the story, and after telling the entire one to those who were unable to listen to it all. Then, they all went to Number Four, Privet Drive in Surrey England. It was, after all, where the monsters that pretended to be human lived – if anyone asked why.

No mortal ever found out how the Dursley house had been flooded, burned, rotted, and slashed down, the beaten and mutilated corpses of the three Dursleys on the ground floor. The gods did all know, however, who did it, though none would ever question why. If only because no one was planning on telling the youngest Potter anytime soon.

Of course, Hestia then went to curl up with the her fiance on the couch, attempting to get more sleep than she needed, because say what you will, she liked sleep.

 **XXX**

"I still say that your mum is going to kick Dumbledore's ass." James said to the being in front of him, the black skin with with lava crack running through him and large horns on the top of his head. He was addressing one of his best friends, Kronos, father of Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon.

"She'll have to fight to be the first one," Kronos muttered as he took a sip of the fire whiskey that was in front of him before continuing, "most everyone in the Pantheon and most titans want to kill him. Albeit, the titans because he's irritating, but still."

James and Kronos chuckled as they drank the fire whiskey, both simply enjoying each others company in the depths of Tartarus. How this came to be you ask? Well that's quite simple.

While few wizards know of demigods, it is not a secret as all wizards muggleborn or pureblood are Clearsighted, the mist effecting them little if at all. However, monsters and demigods generally aren't near the magic community, the few that are are Roman, Egyptian, or Norse as all three have ties with the magical community.

It just so happens that James Potter's father was a Norse God that went by the name Loki.

"Still, it will be pretty entertaining to watch Dumbledore cower at Hestia's glare," Kronos said cringing at the memory of his eldest daughter's glare. While she hadn't perfected it when he was thrown into Tartarus, it was still frightening – but now she had millennium to practice it. "Four bottles says my son-in-law tells my daughter he loves her right after the second task."

"No bet," James responded quickly taking another sip of his fire whiskey, "you know damn well that he will, after likely putting his life on the line to save a stranger."

"He does do that quite often, doesn't he?" Kronos asked with mirth filling his voice.

"I hadn't noticed" James shot back as he rolled his eyes, throwing his empty bottle to the side. "We have a very, very large problem."

"What is it?" Kronos asked, sitting up straighter in a serious tone.

"We're out of drinks."

"Oh dear. Well that's not good. Want to go see if mother or Hyperion has any?"

"Is that a rhetorical question? Of course I want more alcohol, who do you take me for, Moony?"

 **XXX**

Bloody hell! In 14 hours the followers have doubled, the favorites have more than doubled, and the reviews have TRIPLED. You guys really like this, eh? I'd say so, considering how popular this is with two chapters, neither much over two thousand words.

So in this chapter Harry doesn't understand emotions, is bad at comforting girls – and a guy – cry, and Thanatos explains why they reacted to poorly to the fact he had no love, was neglected, was abused, and had no friends because he was a false pariah. Harry just can't understand.

So yes, the Dursleys are in the Fields of Punishment, their house is burned (Hestia), rotten (Thanatos), flooded (Poseidon), and slashed (Aphrodite because she had basically no weapons). I felt that it was a nice thing to do for Harry, but how will he react? Also James and Kronos are in Tartarus drinking alcohol and James is a demi-god of Loki.

Let it never be said I'm not original, because the premise that James and Kronos are _best friends_ and Kronos isn't an irredeemable monster. So the general consensus is 'Bash the living shit out of Dumbledore and bash Ron and Hermione but not quite as bad' which I admit I was expecting. Some people didn't want them to be bashed, a few wanted minor bashing, and most wanted bashing that wasn't quite as bad as Dumb-as-door's is going to be.

So, until next time.


	4. A Bit Too Late

Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. The next thing the Great Hall heard was the sound of a head smashing into a table with enough force to resonate throughout the large hall.

"Get up there, Harry!" Harry's best female-friend whisper yelled at him with a glare. Harry accepted that – despite not putting his name in – she was right and it would be rude to argue with her when she thought she was smarter than him. It would be rude to be smarter than someone, right? Harry thought so, and he made sure that everyone he was acquainted with did better than he did.

So with a will of sponge, Harry strode up to the double doors behind the Goblet of Fire, nodding at Headmaster Dumbledore as he went, and quietly opened the door on the right as the Great Hall erupted into frenzied yells. Harry felt very bad for causing people to be angry, though maybe if they were angry at him, then they would be happier. Therefore, he would accept his peers being mad at him.

Harry looked at the three contestants in the room, which was rather homey. Victor Krum leaning up against a wall glaring into the hearth – Harry hoped he wasn't angry, and he was just glaring from boredom – Fleur Delacour sitting in an oversized leather chair, the brown pallet fitting with the rather brown room. She looked rather constipated, her face scrunched up. The last person was a familiar face who was known as Cedric Diggory a popular Hufflepuff and the Quidditch Captain for his respective house.

The french girl was the first to hear the door click shut, and turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow, before asking a rather famous question.

"What is et? Do ze want us back out zere?" Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was launched forward when the door he was standing in front of slammed open dramatically. This had the effect of making all three official champions turn their heads toward the person striding through the door, and Harry getting no help up.

"Lady and Gentlemen, I present to you the fourth Triwizard Tournament Champion," Ludo Bagman paused looking around, "Oh. Where is Mr. Potter?" Ludo called out in a faux-announcer voice.

"Down here sir!" Harry called from behind the door as he raised himself from the floor, cracking his back along the way and earning a sympathetic flinch from Bagman as he directed his arms towards the previously fallen teenager.

"What?" Victor snarled as he glared vehemently at Harry, Fleur sharing his expression, whereas Cedric looked halfway between concern and righteous anger. Then by the law of convenience the Headmasters of all three schools came into the room, Professor Snape and Professor Moody trailing them.

"Harry, did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore immediately asked as his eyes ceased twinkling. It made the man look somewhat frightening.

"No, sir." Harry answered honestly, though if the others faces were any suggestion no one believed him.

"I call foul play Dumbledore!" Yelled the Durmstrang – Krum's school – Headmaster Igor Karkaroff. He was a former Death Eater, had Harry heard correctly, which explained the hostile attitude aimed at Harry. Of course, Harry thought, he was angry for his student not getting the chance to prove himself perhaps.

"Potter's been breaking rules since he got here, don't blame the Headmaster" Professor Snape said in his ever calm tone, his trademark sneer pointed at Karkaroff rather than Harry for once. Harry thought it was rather nice of him.

Madame Maxime asked what kind of school Headmaster Dumbledore was running, and though Harry was tempted to say a fine school, he was cut of by his own Headmaster.

"I suppose it matters not Harry will simply not compete, simple." The other Headmasters looked slightly less angry than before. Then Ludo Bagman interrupted the agreements of the wizards and witch.

"According to the rulebook, whomsoever has their name chosen from the Goblet has to compete. Unless you want to lose your magic, that is." Ludo Bagman looked jovial and concerned at the same time. It was rather odd, but Harry didn't question it. That would be rude.

"Then, I do suppose that young Mr. Potter must compete. Though it will be somewhat troublesome." Headmaster Dumbledore stated, his grandfatherly tone absent and replaced with a more commanding one.

The other headmasters reacted to this. Quite violently, with much quiet yelling – and more objections to Harry being aloud to participate. Eventually they all calmed and accepted it with disgruntled faces.

With nothing else to add Dumbledore strode out of the room. Harry noted for the first time he wasn't wearing vibrant colors as he was wont to do. Professor Snape followed, his robes flapping dramatically and his scowl not lessened. Harry wondered if that was a spell, or simply practice.

Ludo Bagman hurried after the Headmaster, running like he was holding onto suspenders despite the fact he was wearing robes. Harry wasn't sure why he was running like that, considering he wasn't far behind the two that left before him. He didn't question it though.

The other Heads of the schools filed out after Ludo with their students trailing behind them. Cedric seemed to stay behind the longest, content to glare him to death. Harry felt like telling Cedric that glares couldn't actually kill anyone, but felt it would be mean to crush his dream, so instead stood from the couch and began to walk back

Harry had noticed that dinner had ended, which was fine he supposed, he didn't need the food. He had been having more dinner recently because of Hestia, which he was grateful for. He swung his average-not-scrawny arms as he walked to the Gryffindor Common Room. He knew there were two possible outcomes, either they all loved him for the time being, as they were wont to do when he brought glory to the house of red and gold. The other way it could go was them believing him 'dark' – which he still didn't understand how it was evil, just that it was for some reason – and then abandoning him.

Now that Harry thought about it, that happened at least once every year. Probably his fault, no reason to hold a grudge over it. They took him back in the end so it was fine, right? It didn't matter, so long as he fixed it in the end.

Harry kept walking, noting the bright shine on the full moon that he wouldn't have normally. He felt a pang of something for Professor Lupin, perhaps it was hope that he was doing well. Harry couldn't tell. Harry was also reminded of his step-niece, Artemis. Somewhat odd considering she was millennium older than he, but he Harry didn't mind. She seemed nice enough to him. Perhaps a bit hostile, but nothing new to him.

Seeing the Fat Lady in up ahead the corridor, Harry lightly jogged to the portrait.

"Banana Fritters" Harry spoke clearly in a somewhat flat tone.

"Welcome back, dearie." With her words said the painting flipped open to reveal the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry strolled up the steps, and upon reaching the top saw a party going on.

Not exactly a party, per-say, most of the house was there though. Fred and George walked up to him as he took in the red and golden banners strewn across the room – which Harry idly realized clashed horribly with such a bright shade of red – and the absences of Ron.

"Why dear brother of mine,"

"I do believe,"

"We are not worthy,'

"To be in the prescience such a magnificent bastard!" Fred and George saying the last one in unison, Fred being the first one to talk, George following, the Fred once more, ending with together. Harry had always been able to tell them apart, something not even their mother had figured out.

"Fred, George, what do you mean?" Harry asked the twins, despite having a fairly good idea what they were referring to. The twins didn't looked phased at all and simply looked at each other before looking back at him with comically wide grins.

"We mean,"

"Of course,"

"How you,"

"Got yourself into,"

"The Triwizard Tournament!"

This time George started the tirade of partial sentences. Once again the final part was said together, and Harry idly wondered if there was some kind of mind-reading that involved looking someone in the eyes. Nah, that would be silly.

"But I didn't enter myself into the tournament. They won't let me not participate." Harry explained, somewhat firm so there would be no doubts from the twins.

His retort made the twins blink – in unison of course – and then look at each other again.

"Harry mate that cannot be legal,"

"It's like suing Florean Fortescue's ,"

"For getting brain freeze!"

The twins had, thankfully, toned down on the twin speak when they realized that Harry probably wanted nothing to do with the tournament. Both giggled when they remembered following around their younger brother's best friend as his minions because he was hailed the Heir of Slytherin.

The conversation would have continued but...

"Hey! The man, or should I say champion, of the night is here!" Alicia Spinnet called out, drawing the attention of the entire Common Room. Soon enough, Harry was swarmed with fans.

* * *

Harry let out a large breathe as he closed the fourth years' dorm door closed. He really didn't like large crowds, they were dangerous, no means of escape. The fact all of them were focused on him helped little, he was to heavily watched to slowly make his way towards the door. After two hours he claimed he was tired and left. Thankfully no one questioned it, thinking because he was so excited he was in the tournament.

Harry wasn't very tired, but he couldn't very well use the hearth in the Common Room or sneak out as a party went on, so he resolved to play chess with Ron. Assuming he was in here, where else would he be? Come to think of it, Hermione wasn't in the Common Room either. Hermione he could understand, she was like him in someways disliking crowds being one of them.

Ron however _liked_ crowds and being the center of attention. Ron was likely the only reason he and Hermione knew people outside of the three of them, and why Hermione wasn't glued to a bookshelf, or why he wasn't always in self-induced angst. Or the cause of a Slytherin Genocide.

Of course Hestia and by extension her family were having a similar effect on him, though their family was just so incredibly large that they didn't have to drag him into public, the people came to him. The Weasleys looked small in comparison. Something Harry was glad for, he'd decided that he wanted a big family.

When Harry saw Ron just sitting on his bed he knew something was wrong. Ron didn't just sit unless he was sleeping or listening to Hermione. For some reason his eyes glazed over whenever that happened though. He also had a concentrated look on his face which was somewhat scary.

"Hey, Ron." Harry greeted as he started to take out his sleeping clothes. He usually didn't put them on until much later, but there was no feasible way to get to a hearth, so it mattered little. He would get to Hestia's temple eventually.

"So how you'd do it?" The redheaded boy asked, ignoring Harry's greeting completely. Harry didn't know what he was talking about, the tournament maybe?

"How did I do what?" Harry prodded his best – male – friend, only to flinch back slightly at the glare he was sent for his question. Harry realized that it was an incredibly stupid question, and he likely deserved the glare. Still it hurt that his friend was so harsh.

"You know what I'm talking about you prat! How you got into the tournament!" Ron was quietly yelling which was somehow more disorienting than if he were loud. Harry didn't know why Ron looked ready to maul someone. He was idly recognized the look Crookshanks – Hermione's cat – had when looking at Peter Pettigrew.

Harry simply tilted his head. "I didn't enter myself into the tournament. Someone entered me without me knowing, until now that is." The entire sentence was flat, though it had a resolute impact on Ron, who's angry face broke into doubt, before the doubt turned to rage.

"No! Not this time! Stop being such a bloody git, and stealing all the fame!" The red-headed boy threw his hands up in the air, grabbing the curtain surrounding his bed and yanking them hard to cover him in a single pull. "Go 'way, Potter" said the 'best friend' of Harry Potter angrily.

Harry's blank expression turned into one of hurt, his lips pulling down into a frown that was seen often on his face at Hogwarts. His eyes unchanging as he mulled over the loss of his friend. Ron seemed very angry. If Ron was angry Hermione was angry, and when they were angry at him he had no friends. Who would be his friend? No one really sought him out. There were admirers and fans, but no one sought him out.

He was all alone, falling from an unwanted top because of a death game that he was going to be forced to compete in. It was going to be like Second Year, except no Hermione or Ron to back him up. The twins only made jokes that lessened it, but the more serious it became the less they did it. He was up against the Basilisk again suddenly, all alone fighting something far bigger and more dangerous than he.

But...he wasn't alone this time. He had his Fiance and her – his future – family to back him up. It made him feel odd inside. It was like a warm squishy feeling, but it wasn't bad, rather pleasant in fact. He resolved to ask Hestia about it later.

He idly wondered what was going to happen if Professor McGonagall caught wind of the party. She'd either shut it down, or grab a drink and get pissed in her office, as she once said that Harry would drive her to drink. He supposed he should warn her that was bad for her, but that seemed rude.

The time passed as Harry pulled out a book, he wasn't sure which, but it would probably be interesting enough to keep him occupied until he could travel to Hestia's.

* * *

Kronos slowly edged away from James as he shook silently. James wasn't known for his temper, but everyone had a point. James' wasn't very long, or very bad. His wife? Kronos wouldn't _think_ about getting her mad – she would know before he did it. The woman scared him.

"How...how dare, that soulless ginger," If Kronos was drinking anything he would've spit it out, "just up and decided he wasn't my son's friend anymore!" James was glaring up a storm as he watched his son read about some stupid creatures or something. Why didn't he prank the red-headed git, prank him worse than James ever pranked Snivellus?

Of course Harry was too nice to consider pranking someone over something so little as abandoning him. Considering he had faced homicidal teachers, a snake bigger than most yachts, and hordes of souls sucking demons, it wasn't really much of a surprise. He didn't hold grudges. Well not against people hurting _him_ at least.

"Well look at it this way, he won't ever make stupid choices because of anger." Kronos attempted to pacify James before he broke out of Tartarus to simply beat up his son's former best friend.

"He gets into enough trouble as it is, bloody Tartarus the boy's more Albus Dumbledore than Albus Dumbledore!" James yelled, which was entirely true. Harry had made a rather large effort to save literally everyone he could. Except himself, as he had the self-preservation of a suicide bomber.

"Well, at least he undeniably going to end up in Elysium if he dies." Kronos was very careful not to say 'when' because as Thanatos' Champion he may be immune to death. Of course, the real reason was because James would throttle him if he did, but it was entirely possible.

James concurred with a grunt as he envisioned a certain redhead and all the ways to maim a fourteen year old boy. James idly thought about death by breasts, before deciding that was too good a way to go out for him.

Kronos looked on exasperated as his drinking buddy lost himself in murder plots of the soon-to-be-late Ron Weasley. Kronos thought that death by tournament would've been a rather ironic end, but kept his mouth shut. No need to give Potter Senior any more ideas.

* * *

When everyone had evacuated the common room for the night, Harry sneaked back down from the boy's dorm. The red and gold colored room was dark, the hearth no longer lit, and any candles that previously littered to room extinguished. Harry very carefully stepped over the body of an unconscious sixth year student who was drooling a puddle into the carpet.

Harry idly wondered if there were going to be classes tomorrow. It was a Wednesday after all. Sadly Harry couldn't put an alarm clock next to the student's head to wake him up, technology didn't work at Hogwarts.

Ignoring the sleeping boy, Harry walked into the hearth, only to frown as he didn't immediately get transported to Hestia's temple. Fire was more of Hephaestus' thing, but Hestia did also hold a large domain over it as well. So Harry stepped out of the hearth, and used Incindeo, on the empty space of the hearth. Magic was so useful, no need to fetch logs for a fire.

Attempting again, Harry stepped through the fire, and was rewarded for his efforts by plopping into Hestia's living room. Harry much preferred traveling by hearth, rather than the Floo System, if only because he didn't seem like an idiot on exit.

Taking his first step of the night into his fiance's home, he was tackled for the umpteenth time by the small goddess whom was his bride-to-be. Patting her back as she sobbed into his chest, Harry wondered why he was so often cried on.

Make no mistake, Harry knew well what crying was, it was when someone's eyes produced saltwater – tears – from the eyes, and was the bodies' way of removing alien things from the eyes. They could also appear if the body was injured enough, so that pain was a way to produce them.

Did Harry hurt people with his presence? But that couldn't be right, humans and gods alike had been near him very often without burst into tears. Harry thought back to Dudley crying when he sat on his new toy for some holiday or another and broke it under his immense weight. At the time he thought a shard of the toy, a plastic robot or something, was lodged in his ass, but there wasn't. He was apparently crying from _sadness_. When Harry looked in up in a dictionary-

The Boy-With-A-Bird's-Nest-On-His-Head was pulled from his thoughts as Hestia slapped him upside the head. Hard.

"Harry, why are you so late?" Looking down and seeing the tear stained face and wet eyes of Hestia in the body of an eight year old was enough to cause Harry to wonder how he wasn't considered a demon by everyone. Clearly no one who was remotely nice could cause a person to experience something that made them cry so.

"There was a gathering in the common room. They were celebrating me becoming a champion for the Triwizard Tournament." Harry droned back in his monotonic voice. It was a flat and uninteresting voice that would lead many to believe he was an answering machine.

Hestia, while not pleased her future husband was many hours late when he had been coming at the same time every day since their meeting, had enough experience to see that Harry was not pleased by that. It made her happy that he would rather spend time with her than at a party. Though now that she thought about it he looked a little more depressed than before. This was very concerning considering over the course of their few months together Hestia had managed to make Harry genuinely smile twice. That was not to say she did not make him happy, he just wasn't capable of enjoying himself unless she specifically told him he was allowed.

Harry was happy though, as he didn't frown. The best way to say it would be, any negative or neutral emotion was translated to a frown, positive emotions were shown through him simply _not_ frowning, and him smiling was the equivalent of jumping up and down or laughing loudly. He was currently frowning very crossly, something he rarely did in Hestia's presence.

"Harry," aforementioned mortal turned to gaze at the female, "why are you sad?" Hestia had learned long ago that the only way for Harry to understand things was to be incredibly blunt. She could also be callous, but couldn't find it in herself to be. It was both cruel, and required too much effort.

"I am friendless, as of this night." Harry was also incredibly blunt. Hestia wasn't sure if he knew how to not be completely truthful and utterly blunt with everything that came out of his mouth. Though she would have to muse about that later, currently there was a much larger question she needed to be answered.

"What do you mean exactly?" Hestia hoped that none of his friends had died. While she knew of Ron and Hermione she didn't know much of them, only that Hermione was like an older sister and obsessed with literature, and Ron was lazy like her, but rather hot headed. Not that Harry ever compared the two, Harry knew too well of the fury of a woman scorned. His aunt was a master with a frying pan.

"Ron, he no longer wishes to conspire with me," Hestia knew this was really really _really_ bad if Harry was speaking with such a defeatist attitude, "and if my original acquaintance decides he no longer wishes to collaborate then there is no chance my later gained compatriots wanting to see me much less be near me." Harry's tone got darker and colder as he continued, his eyes now a dull and dead sheen compared to the vibrant green they were normally. Even his hair seemed to dull from the pitch black and wild to a faded black that was padded flat against his head."Why am I even talking to you, I am sorry for troubling you with my presence, miss."

Hestia called out for Harry to wait, but he payed her no mind as he walked back into the hearth, teleporting back to where he was hated and loved. Hestia ran after him, stepping into the hearth herself, but found that the hearth where Harry went was no longer lit. Hestia attempted to teleport to the unlit hearth but found herself unable to. The presence surrounding Harry was far too cold for her to even stand without a fire. He felt no happiness, no anger, no sadness, no love, no _emotion_. He was nothing but a corpse that moved now.

So Hestia went to sleep laying down on the couch she and Harry had more than once shared, clutching a pillow to her chest as she cried.

All of Olympus was oddly cold that night as all the hearths burnt out, and no one rekindled them.

* * *

I'm a dick. I not only failed to update for six months ( and I have no reason for that in the first place), but the chapter is only 4,000 words. The good news? Well it's the longest chapter I've ever written for fanfiction. Also, it would be longer but I know it wouldn't get done by the end of the year if I did make it 10,000 words like I was going to do. If you didn't figure it out, the Lazy Hestia you all seem to love so much (and I find myself liking it as well) is entirely based off of me. Hell, the only reason I'm such a chill dude is because I'm too lazy to troll a lot or be aggressive. That said, it's still a weak excuse and I apologize.

What I won't apologize for is me making Harry into an emotionless zombie by way of two Fair Weather Friends (or so he thinks) and forced Hestia through a game of Break the Cutie. I absolutely _needed_ to have Harry get some character development, and bashing Ron and Hermione isn't going to earn him any points in that category. Also Dumbledore is only saved by way of me not finding any way to bash him without seeming like a rabid Dumbledore hater, which I'm not. I dislike him, but he's only human.

Also, for all those yelling at me (I'm joking, shush) that Hermione never abandoned Harry in the books, I have two things to say. 1. I've never even picked up much less read any Harry Potter books. I absolutely hate canon anyways, but still I've never read them. 2. I've only seen the first 4 movies, and the last time I saw Goblet of fire was 10 years ago. All my knowledge about Harry Potter is from fanfiction, and on that note I've read damn near 400,000 of them, so I know a fair bit.

So in this chapter Harry becomes a Champion, Ron is fed up with Harry getting all the glory and not even wanting it, Kronos is attempting to stop James from castrating Ron, Hestia and Harry have their first major 'fight', Harry is left emotionless, and Hestia is left a sobbing wreck. I think this is best attempt at humor yet, said the author with obvious sarcasm.

I'll see you all again when I update in six months! (That was joke, if you were unaware, I'll try to update soon.)


	5. Ego is a Skill

The night preceding the day had been cold, the hearths all snuffed out late in the night. Even with the supposed natural warmth of the day, Olympus was still incredibly chilly, both in temperature and attitude.

Zeus was the first to notice it, even if he did it simply off hand.

Zeus was sitting in his throne, simply sitting as he partook in his favorite activity. Being the king of Olympus. There was nothing greater than to be the leader. Zeus then shivered (not that he would ever admit it), not because it was cold, but rather because the temperature was neither cold nor warm and was quite simply uncomfortable. Standing from his stark white throne Zeus went to go ask Hestia why none of the hearths were lit.

Zeus looked at the grandfather clock that adorned one of the walls he passed. Eight in the morning, a reasonable time to be at work. Which meant that of course Hestia was still sleeping and wouldn't wake for another four or so hours. That didn't excuse the others, as he was the only one who was in the Hall of the Gods.

Looking up into the sky and wondering why is was still so dark, Zeus was immediately willed in a global storm, ranging from simply overcast to full blown hurricanes. There was no sun in the sky. That was incredibly concerning considering how Apollo was awake at incredibly early hours, and thus worrying that he was not able to get the sun into the sky.

Now that he thought about it, there was still the moon in the sky. So Artemis was unable to retrieve it so it could be replaced by the brighter ball. That was even more concerning, considering how competent Artemis was compared to her brother.

Let it never be said that Zeus didn't play favorites, because he did.

So with that thought in mind Zeus began to run towards Apollo's temple. By run, Zeus was literally riding on lightning in order to travel faster to figure out why Apollo had not done his duty.

Literally kicking down the door to Apollo's bedroom with his dress shoes, Zeus strode in the room with a commanding aura. Only to immediately flinch back as he caught sight of the numerous pinups on the walls. God, did the boy have no self respect whatsoever? At least Zeus had the decency to put them in his sock drawer.

A surfboard that had likely never seen the ocean, a few discarded clothes littering the floor, Zeus swore by himself that it was like a twelve year old living here.

Glancing over a the _race-car bed_ Zeus kicked the side of it with a grunt.

"Wake up! The sun needs to shine you imbecile!" He boomed in his godly voice, his shoulders lightly rising and falling as he attempted to catch his breath. Let it be known that keeping a global storm up was incredibly taxing, especially at eight on a Wednesday.

With a moan Apollo sat up, and in the place of the normally cheery and bright playboy was a pale gray zombie with matted blonde hair and blood-shot eyes. The younger of the gods stuck an arm out in a zombie-like fashion, causing Zeus to take a large step back as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

There were some things is life that were absolute. Artemis hated men, and that would never change. Demeter was constantly high. Apollo was _always_ a pretty boy. Absolutes that Zeus hadn't seen change in the many millennium he had been alive. So with something that was definitely not a shriek, Zeus chucked a picture of one of the ninety Jonas brothers at Apollo's head effectively knocking him unconscious, not that he had been particularly coherent anyways.

Perhaps his lovely man-hating daughter would be more...pleasant. However she was out on a hunt, and therefore Zeus decided to go to the next woman he thought of off the top of his head. Sadly Hades had barred him from entering the underworld, so his wife – Hera – would have to do.

Once more riding a stray lightning bolt Zeus panted, it was getting incredibly hard to keep up such a large storm with no proper motivation. While Zeus was annoyed, he had no proper righteous angry, fury, or glee that would help him ignore the power consumption. With a groan he was strolled into his wife's temple clutching his head.

With a sigh Zeus attempted to remember the way to his beloved's bedroom. He was very rarely here, and he supposed he was in the dog house once again for some inane reason that Hera wouldn't even let him attempt to let him justify. Admittedly she was one of the few who did actually call him out on his mistakes in a way to make him a better person.

He did truly appreciate his wife and – _DEAR TARTARUS_!

Zeus, while looking for his beautiful, lovely wife, ran into yet another gray skinned abomination this time, the female's brown hair not done in it's usual bun, nor was she decent in any way. Cracked lips, and heavy bags under her eyes of which both had glossed over, hair a mess and duller than normal. She was slowly running her body into a pillar in an attempt to move somewhere but had clearly given up before she had even left the temple.

Zeus cringed at the moans Hera voiced as she slumped further on noticing him. She had at least stop running into the pillar, because that simply could not be good for either the foundation or the woman whom he loved unconditionally.

This plague or whatever this phenomenon was had clearly struck all the gods, or at least it likely had. Why had it not struck him, Zeus wondered as he made his way to go check on any other gods he could find from the pantheon. Perhaps because he and his brothers were safe because they were so much more powerful than the others? No, the seas had not been tame at all from what he had seen of the news today.

Perhaps Hades and he were fine then? There was no definite way to check, and Hades was unlikely to answer any summons bar a titan invasion, and that was simply preposterous.

While thinking of anyway to contact a god that wasn't infected with whatever disease that the rest of the pantheon he had met with had, Zeus had wandered into Hestia's temple subconsciously, hoping she was unaffected.

First, Zeus thought he was imagining it. After all, Hestia was the calm, reasonable one of the pantheon. Where he, the youngest, was very much objective and a leader, Hestia was the eldest and a people person who loved to coddle others and was very bad at leading anyone who didn't immediately listen to what she said unless she was angry.

But as he continued into the cozy temple Hestia resided in, there was no mistake. Hestia, his adorable, beloved elder sister was crying her heart out. She was not gray like the Apollo or Hera, and her eyes were red from crying and not bloodshot. Her face was marked heavily by red streaks where the tears ran down. She was clutching a pillow, and looked up when she felt Zeus watching her. She used the back of her unclothed hand to wipe away her tears in an effort to look composed.

Zeus no longer had any problems keeping the storm running. In fact it was slowly increasing in ferocity as he continued to see his favorite sister cry her eyes out.

"What is wrong?" Zeus ground out in an effort not to yell or smash something out of anger – not at her, but at whomever made her like this. For there would be no mercy for that poor soul, only painful death the likes of Tartarus could not fathom.

The eldest goddess was wearing her normal dark brown robes, but lying in a ball like she was they pooled around her and made her seem even more vulnerable and small. Zeus' hand crushed into a fist when she sniffled, but kept his worried look. They were _dead_.

"Harry, he," a sniffle, "he was abandoned. He doesn-" She bit back a sob that bubbled in the middle of her sentence. "He doesn't think he deserves me, he's so cold...no emotion… no anything. He-" Another sob, this time taking her many moments to recover enough to continue. "I want to, to help but I can't. He's too cold, too not warm for me to comfort." She shivered.

The boy, Zeus thought angrily, had made Hestia cry. He would have to die a painful death. There was no way he would escape to Tartarus as long as Zeus wanted to punish him. For no mortal nor god would ever go unpunished for making Hestia cry. Before Zeus could go and murder the Boy-Who-Lived in a very shocking death, he was stopped by Hestia continuing.

"I love him so much...I can't imagine he live like he is any longer. I'll never recover if he can't, I care too much for him." She voiced, countering his thoughts despite her doing little else than ramble at this point. Biting back a gasp Zeus realized why he was the only one unaffected by the seemingly universal grasp of cold and emotionless stupor.

He had the fatal flaw of pride. He was too prideful to be influenced by someones emotions, just as he was too stubborn for him to accept being wrong very often. The other gods had no buffer, no saving grace from Hestia's unwilling influence. She was the heart, the warmth, the _family_ and when she was hurting, they all were hurting.

But Zeus was the leader, he couldn't be influenced like that. Even his own rage at the Potter was not shared by Hestia – whom only pitied and felt for the boy. The boy couldn't die, if Olympus and the Earth stayed like this there was no telling when, or if, Hestia would get over it.

Even with that being a factor, the real reason Zeus knew he wouldn't be able to kill the boy – Harry, he reminded himself – was because it would cause Hestia to hurt, and there was nothing he hated more than hurting his own family with his actions. He sadly did it very often.

What, were you under the impression that Zeus had no personality other than being an ass? Shame on you reader, for no character is two-dimensional, just as no person is completely two-dimensional. We're all disgusting three dimensional poly grams.

So Zeus, mentally thanking his fatal flaw turned saving grace, set off for Hogwarts in an effort to see how bad the situation was. Considering Hestia's breakdown – for Zeus knew no word that more accurately described what she was going through – he was expecting something of a trainwreck.

He did, however promise to himself that no matter what the mortal was thinking, or rather what he was clearly not thinking, that he would save him if not for Hestia's sake then for Olympus'. Sure, running off of his righteous anger, Zeus could continue the global storm for a few more hours but he was still only a god. Rather he wasn't an all powerful being, sadly.

So, brushing stray bits of dust and other various grime that had stuck to his gray tuxedo suit (for they were the only article of clothing that was pompous enough for Zeus to wear) and brush back his balding white hear, Zeus called upon a lightning bolt and flew back to his throne in the Hall of the Gods.

He picked up the Master Bolt, and reminding himself he was not to kill the mortal who made his eldest sister cry, summoned another bolt of lightning and rode it to the wizard school.

Zeus would later furiously deny any accusations that he was a softie, or a had a sister complex.

* * *

"This is most worrying" Kronos lamented as he passed the bottle of scotch to James.

"What was your first clue, the fact the _bloody sun hasn't risen_ or was it the fact that _Zeus, the king of prats, is our hero?_ " James yelled back angrily which made Kronos wince as he rubbed where his ears would be if he had any. James was still incredibly not pleased with the fact that his son's best friend had abandoned him.

"That one." Kronos knew that snarking back would result in retaliation but he couldn't help himself. James was such an incredibly pathetic target when he was angry that it almost made Kronos' snark not enjoyable. Almost. Of course, James lunging at him was not anticipated and despite his larger stature, the Titan was pushed down.

With an 'oomph' both male prisoners of Tartarus were groaning on the stone cold floor of the multi layered prison that Tartarus was. With a cross between a sigh and a moan Kronos tilted his head to see a furious James clenching and releasing his fist at a rapid pace, one that was picking up as time ticked on.

Perhaps, Kronos thought, James was a little more mad about the whole situation than he had anticipated. Then again, one must remember that Kronos has been trapped in Tartarus for many millennium, and had developed a rather...apathetic look on events of those above despite his direct family being heavily involved. James had been in the 'torture prison' for just over thirteen years. Not a lot comparatively, and Kronos admitted to himself he was likely similar to James when he was first tossed into his current residence.

"Perhaps we should...converse," the word was said tersely, even more so than the rest of the sentence, "with the youngest male redhead." Kronos didn't exactly have a knack for memory, he was more of a action kind of deity, so he could be forgiven for forgetting the surname of Ron. He could have said Ron, but that was just so unrefined and bland compared to the (admittedly) melodramatic and pseudo-evil act. Though that had problems, the main one being the Pool of Viewing they used to view Olympus and Earth being rather in the ground, meaning the friends would have no way to stay updated with the events on Earth or Olympus.

Kronos wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut, because he was sure that he had never seen a grown man look so happy at the thought of yelling, maiming, torturing, or any given combination of the three, a child. _This_ was the paternal instinct of a mortal? He shuddered at the thought of ever seeing a maternal instinct at full force. He also privately cursed himself for not being a better father, if they got t _his_ kind of power every time their child was placed in mortal - or more accurately immortal - danger than he would be more than willing to play trains or some such with his children.

The Titan had little time to ponder, however, as James started to shove his elbow lightly but impatiently.

"C'mon I wanna go the bloody prat out of my son's friend!" James could sound like a excessively whining child when he needed to. Or perhaps he could sound like a reasonable adult when he really needed to. Either way, Kronos stood up and brushed dust off his large frame before turning to James.

The human was already walking in a random direction. Why? Well neither he nor Kronos knew where the exit to the damned pit that was stopping him from delivering divine pranks. With a sigh the more mature (though still highly immature) divine creature jogged lightly to catch up with the human man who calling mature was nothing but a blatant lie.

"So which way are we going first, James?"

"I was following you!"

* * *

Perhaps dementors were being called back to Hogwarts. It would certainly explain the soul crushing feeling like happiness did not exist, not mentioning the fact the castle was covered in a not-so-thin layer of ice because of the temperature. It seemed that everyone was affected and that no one could do much other than sit and hope the feeling passed soon. Yes, it seemed just about everyone was affected by this horrible, crushing feeling so similar to Dementors.

Draco Malfoy was just able to notice, however. He was too busy being his normal snarky and irritating self for him to possibly care about the emotions of others. For he was the Prince of Slytherin, the Green Godling, the Purest a Pureblooded wizard could be. He was not evil by any scope of the imaginations, a nor was he something as stupid as 'good', he much preferred to see himself as a benign force. That didn't mean he wouldn't join Voldemort in a heartbeat if his father or mother asked him, because he cared more about them than anything else.

If all humans were privy to a fatal flaw that kept them from being perfect, along with all the normal flaws humanity came with, Draco Malfoy's would certainly be pride. His ego so massive he truly was a rival for Zeus in that both could eclipse the world if left unchecked, thrusting the world into a terrible darkness of boasting and sheer arrogance. Well, if the ego of either could become physical beings they would.

Regardless, Draco was not having a particularly good morning. Not only were his bodyguards unresponsive and more sluggish than normal, they both seemed to radiate depression. Honestly it was a miracle the oafs could feel emotion with how empty their heads were, but what reason did they have to be depressed? Scoffing at the sheer annoyance other's emotions were, Draco had walked into the common room to perhaps find some intelligent conversation for once. Of course, the blubbering fools whose given names he never bothered to remember turned out to be no worse than the rest.

Draco paused for half-a-second to think about why he was unaffected, before simply chalking it down to his immense power and importance that the disease refused to sully someone as perfect as he. Though he was very concerned that Pansy looked halfway dead on her feet. Contrary to popular belief, he did like Pansy quite a lot and most certainly did _not_ find her annoying. Most of the time. Still he hoped the sickness passed soon, if only because he hated seeing his- err... he wouldn't want to risk getting infected, that was it!

Far more disconcerting was the fact that his godfather seemed to be affected by whatever ailed the rest of Slytherin. He wasn't an undead-wannabe like the rest, nor was he mostly comatose like quite a lot of the students seemed to be, but his skin was ever more pale than usually, bag under his eyes deeper than yesterday, and hair no longer having a greasy shine. Draco made a face at the last one, and promptly decided that if anything good came of this, that at least he wouldn't have to worry about potions dripping off his godfather's hair. Even so the potion's master did little but sit in one of the green plush chairs and stare into the fire, handing out droughts of calming.

flipping his hair in a completely non-dramatic way, Draco made his way out of the Slytherin dungeons and traversed the ever twisting maze that was Hogwarts. Though he did know the way after four years and so had no problem getting there, he did wonder just how many first years Slytherin lost getting trapped down in the dungeon. There were many turns down less than safe corridors, and rooms that were certainly not child friendly. Draco was snapped out of his thought by enter the Great Hall and promptly noticing _there was no food_.

Peering under the tables, he made a second conclusion, there were also no students or teachers! Professor Snape was accounted for, he was helping the students (as odd as that sentence was), but no one except the Astronomy Teacher had an excuse to not be here! Surely they were not all helping students? Casting a quick _Tempus_ it read that the time was 7:59, and forcing the doors of the Great Hall open, Draco saw that is was dark outside. He would have thought it was night time, if not for fact that it was most certainly not night time for the obvious reason of he had gone to sleep last night.

Looking into the sky Draco saw a moon, and more importantly a clear sky with no SUN. As if a divine being also just realized it, clouds gathered faster than they had any right to, creating a thunder storm as lightning streaked through the sky and thunder boomed. Running back into the castle to escape the rain that was suddenly falling, and closed the massive doors behind him quickly to not cover the floor in water. With a sigh Draco sat down at the Slytherin table and waited. Ten minutes passed before Draco promptly decided that no one was going to come, and headed for the Ravenclaw dormitories. While he didn't care for anyone in the House of Wit, it was better than people thinking he knew a Hufflepuff - or even worse, a Gryffindor.

So Draco made his way up to the Ravenclaw tower, and if asked later he was not running, merely walking quickly. Though, he would admit he was concerned how his education would suffer if the teachers were all taking care of students constantly. Not concerned about any of the students at all.

As he upped his speed Draco muttered "Somehow, I know Scarhead has something to do with this." before sighing and continuing onward.

Ironically, he was right.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes. He had not been sleeping. It was simply what a human being was supposed to do at night, according to the information he had gathered. Sitting up the raven haired Potter turned his head perpendicular with his shoulders and looked to see if anyone else was awake. It appeared that Neville Longbottom was shivering under his covers, odd considering he was not cold.

Ronald Weasley was turning in his bed, shaking and groaning while still sleeping. The redhead also pulled at the covers, making scrambling motions as he struggled against a force that wasn't there. Perhaps this one was having night terrors. It was of no concern to Harry.

He knew little of the other boys in the dormitory, and made little effort to look at how they were fairing, though he noted that none were missing, Casting a Tempus the time was said to be 8:01, and therefore Harry had spent roughly one minute analyzing the state of the his dorm mates. It was of no matter. Leaving the cushioning of the bed, Harry stood straight and made his way for the door. He stepped on many articles of clothing and articles of... other things as he traversed the minefield of a room, pausing only to open the door and slide out, the door closing behind him with nary another sound. He made his way to the Common Room.

The Common Room was littered with people in the higher years, many draped across couches, the floor, each other in some kind of human obstacle course. It made little difference as he ignored the red and gold robed teenagers and made his way out of the Gryffindor gathering. He was stopped midway by a familiar face.

"Harry?" Hermione asked when she saw him. Despite being barely conscious, and so dizzy she had to sit down. "How are...you okay?" She paused in the middle of her sentence, wondering what question to ask with her limited energy. Harry turned towards her, pale green half lidded eyes peering into her soul. Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it.

"My body and mind are maintained by exercise of the physical and mental variety," The Boy-Who-Lived paused and tilted his head in what would have been a cute motion had he not been speaking in monotone, "my body is below average according to my mental records, not 'okay' and therefore your question is invalid." Turning his back on the bushy haired female, Harry made his way out of the Common Room.

Harry would not be affected by the soul crushing feeling that grasped at other's emotions, for he was the creator of the aura that projected cold and emotionless onto those around him. He was a dementor in human flesh, a being that had no emotions. Harry did not eat the emotions as normal dementors did, for he could no longer comprehend them. They were stolen away, the memories of happiness, and whether anyone could regain them as unknown.

For Harry would affect even dementors, the emotions and souls eaten by them wasted away and killing the cloaked phantoms from the inside out if any approached him. If they were capable of their own emotions, they would fear the fourteen year old scrawny boy. As it were, they had the instinct of self-preservation and would still avoid the boy at all costs.

With precise walking, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall. Perhaps food would fill the empty void in his chest, that did not seemingly exist in the material realm.

* * *

 **Okay, this should have been up on December 2nd. Blame Fallen-Ryu for giving me the idea of a dementor Harry. It was a brilliant idea mind you, and I liked it better than the first draft where Zeus popped down to Hogwarts, (literally) beat some sense into Harry, and end the chapter with fluff. Instead, I can make all of Hogwarts suffer to varying degree, Mwhahaha!** **Admittedly it should have been up on the thirteenth even without changing the script, but my computer broke, so I'm typing this all on my mother's laptop which has a significantly smaller keyboard than mine, and as such it's incredibly hard for me to type.**

 **Anyways, moving on! I bet you all thought I was going to bash Zeus, didn't you? He's actually my favorite god, mostly because I have an incredibly large ego like he does. When people ask what my name is I say 'Gilgamesh' and put on an incredibly egotistical persona, and it's _magical_. Also, Draco Malfoy. Originally Draco was going to snark Ron for abandoning Harry (not for Harry's sake, just to rub it in that Ron is a horrible person), and have a Ego-Off with Zeus, but I decided to give him a secondary reason to be connected to Zeus in that he's one of the only characters that is at full capacity while Harry is releasing his aura fully. Also, the bit with everyone on Olympus being basically zombies is Hestia's influence. She's the god of FAMILY, so I imagined it like Hestia having a major influence on that, and when she's as broken as she currently is _so is everyone else._**

 **Also, can I say I have a new respect for the cliche 'Character is dense and doesn't get obvious signs of affection by many females' because good god is it hard to write Harry. That said Harry doesn't understand any emotion, and as such I'm trying to write his as robotic-ally as possible while still making it clear he is a human. I cannot wait to fix him because it took my nearly an hour to write all four-hundred or so words that had Harry in them.**

 **So, to recap, Olympus is screwed because Hestia is making all the gods that she considers family comatose, Zeus' ego is so large he's immune and is on his way to Hogwarts to save Harry and his family. James and Kronos are making their way out of Tartarus to kick the shit out of Ron, of course they won't be out for a while and since they have no way to stay updated..**

 **Hogwarts is screwed because Harry is making all the students and staff (including House Elves) half-dead and sucking away emotions dementor style, Draco's ego is so large he's immune and is on his way to Ravenclaw tower to check if anyone else is unaffected and perhaps save Hogwarts and the world along the way. Harry is making his way through the castle to the Great Hall, looking for something to fill the void left by his wayward emotions, and is far more analytical than normal.**

 **Oh, and to be perfectly honest, I've not read/watched most of the series I'm interested in. I've only watched up to Movie 4 of Harry Potter and none of the books, the only Percy Jackson movie I've ever watched was the first and I've never read any of the books (or subsequent books), hell any information I say is almost guaranteed to be from straight up Mythology or other fanfictions since the last time I watched a Harry Potter movie was 2005.**

 **Oh, hey, it wasn't six months this time.**


End file.
